


From Thorns to Roses

by Driven12



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Ambiguous Relationships, Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Modification, Bondage, Bounty Hunters, Explicit Sexual Content, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mad Scientists, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge, Sex Toys, Sexual Slavery, Slaves, Slow Burn, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:48:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25562350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Driven12/pseuds/Driven12
Summary: In spite of his young age, Thorn is already a hardened and feared bounty hunter in the Kingdom of Althea. He operates under a shady research facility to bring the most despicable of criminals to justice and advance biological research in one fell swoop, and nobody has ever made him think twice about it. That is, until he stumbles upon a withdrawn and traumatized boy named Isaac, who has nowhere to go except the strangely infatuated Thorn's open arms. As their relationship progresses, Thorn asks himself, "What's really going on in this messed up kingdom? And why is this kid the one that's making such a difference?"
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. A splintered thorn

The night crowd was as busy and unwavering as it always was on the days of rest at the local tavern. The cramped building practically overflowed with man and woman alike vying for their fill of wine and ale to drown the sorrows of the past week away, and perhaps drink joys of a new week into being. Public filth, middle class, and nobility alike wasted their nights away here, many often drinking themselves into stupor in a misguided attempt to make their minds light.

These were the people Dayan Erhardt had his eyes on.

Dayan was by no means a kind fellow; his past surmounted to an entire lifestyle of cheating, looting, and often killing his way into the top pockets of the nobility. As such was his purpose tonight, drinking with an already near-unconscious dame that he recognized as a daughter of one of the more esteemed lords of the area. If things progressed as normal, they were likely to spend a few mere moments more drinking before Dayan could reasonably display concern for her health and remove her from the establishment. From there, it was simply a matter of taking her back, holding her for money, and perhaps even having his way with her, for what it was worth. She wasn’t too horrible a looker, and Dayan was well accustomed to making love to what amounted to little more than a limp body. The poor lass probably wouldn’t even remember it.

“Ah, ah, darling. You look like you’re getting pretty unsteady there.” He chided softly. “Does your father perhaps know what you’re doing all the way out here? Don’t tell me you came all by your lonesome.”

“Shaddap.” The woman groaned through slurred lips. “Whatsh it yurr bishnesh whether I came alone or nah?” She tried to leap up from the table, but merely toppled to the side in an embarrassing display of drunkenness.

“Steady there, doll. Let me lend a hand.” Dayan shot a warning glare to the barkeep, who was a man well aware what his type was generally at a bar to accomplish. The pitiful man simply turned his head, resigned to seeing nothing. “Here, now. Let’s go someplace out of the way to help your condition, hmmm? No, don’t worry, darling. Just rest your weight on me, and I’ll do the rest.”

The two stumbled out of the tavern unsteadily, the noble lady barely holding any of her own weight.

_Crivens, what an embarrassing display,_ Dayan thought to himself. _Can’t understand how an airheaded bimbo like this survived twenty years of her life._

Frustrated, Dayan changed his path slightly, moving from the still-busy streets to an alley nearby the tavern.

“What say we take some payment first, just to revive my good spirits. What do you say, sweetheart?” Dayan leaned over the barely conscious woman, taking his time to move her blouse down slowly, cherishingly…

“Well, now. I certainly hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Dayan froze at the voice, then immediately spun around, eyes desperately darting around to find the source of the voice.

“Who the-? Show yourself, you idiotic coward! Don’t you know who I am?”

The voice returned, lazily and arrogantly wafting through the allyway.

“Dayan Erhardt. Worthless thief turned worthless kidnapper turned worthless murderer. You’ve killed well over fifty men, women and children in order to cement good standing into the general nobility in this area, and I presume you were about to use this woman herself in…more ways than one.”

Dayan tried to focus on the voice to find a direction to turn and face, but there was no way of telling in the cramped, echoing space.

“Bastard! Show yourself if you’re so arrogant and above it all! Go ahead and fight me if I’m so worthless!”

A soft laugh echoed through the alley, sending chills up Dayan’s neck.

“Fight you? Fight…you? Don’t make me laugh. I’m certainly not here for a fight. You wouldn’t even put up anything near a proper one.”

Dayan had no time to react. In a split second, he felt a hard surface ram just below his ribs, and then again at the base of his neck. The cutthroat keeled over in pain, but was stop suddenly as a hard and sharp object pressed against the middle of his throat, held fast by an unwavering hand.

“You’ve been quite a bad boy, Dayan.” The voice purred just next to his ear, and Dayan wanted to strain to look around and see the face of the man capturing him. However, the blade of his dagger remained fast against his throat, any movement threatening to spill his own blood into the alley. “What say we go and see you to your punishment, hmmm? I’m sure you’ll be of great help for their experiments.”

Dayan didn’t feel the blunt force against the base of his skull, nor did he feel himself collapse onto the ground. He also did not see the surprisingly young-looking redhead staring down at him with disgust before he was gathered with the ease of a kitten being lifted by a strong knight. The young man shifted under the load slightly, looking down at the unconscious woman with disdain.

“…Not my problem.”

And then he was gone.

**

The Archanist’s Center for Research was hardly a spectacular site to impress the general public by anyone’s standards. The small collection of huts and shacks surrounding a plain stone fort did nothing to evoke a sense of awe or mystery, or even of general competence. In spite of that, those present at this meager collection of buildings were considered the most esteemed scientists and scholars of the common age. Men and women who theorized about the mystical nature of the world, attempted to break it down into its common elements, and dared to study even the most taboo depths of its structure and discover the secrets hidden within. The redheaded young man sighed as he entered through its gates once again, toting the familiar weight of an unconscious victim for them to prey upon once more.

“Thorn! Oh darling, it’s been far too long.”

“Bagged another one, eh? Wonder what the poor bastard did to deserve it.”

“I heard he’s supposed to go to Harris’s facility. Can’t imagine what he’s done to go that far.”

Thorn growled lowly beneath his breath and continued trudging through the villages. The scientists of the area were altogether far too familiar with him and his appearance in spite of his profession. None of them ever showed any fear of him, perhaps because they genuinely believed he would never have the gall to ever turn on them. Perhaps they were right, but it still irked the boy to see them relax and banter with him as though he were an old friend. There were truthfully very few in the village he genuinely enjoyed speaking with, and for good reason.

Begrudgingly, he made his way to the center of the town, where the stone fort lay as the people’s shining jewel. This was where the majority of the scholars set up their research in order to properly study their respective crafts. Harris, the man who ordered Dayan’s safe delivery, was the shack farthest to the end from this fort. As he made his way to the isolated building, he took the opportunity to listen in on the various other labs. Screams of pain and terror, shouts of excited discovery, and groans of dejected despair echoed throughout one lab or the other, continuously proceeding as each scholar either made an important breakthrough or regressed all the way back to their starting point.

These sounds were all horribly annoying.

Finally, he managed to find his way to the farthest-most lab, and wasted no time to slam the door open, startling the old man nearly bent double over a covered table. The light flared in from the outside, harshly displaying wizened, mottled skin and a white patch of hair barely covering the elder’s scalp. His pale blue eyes dilated slightly before quickly adjusting, and in spite of his initial shock his mouth split open into a grin immediately upon recognizing the young bounty hunter.

“Thorn! Ah, gracious. I didn’t expect for you to return so quickly! I assume that sack of flesh bent over your shoulder is that Dayan I asked you about?”

Thorn didn’t respond, instead choosing to silently walk over to the older man’s table and dump the man face-up in front of him.

“Care to tell me more about him? Your debriefing was painfully vague, from what I gathered.” The redhead asked dully.

“Ah, ah, yes” Harris tutted. “Dayan Erhardt, unknown age and nationality. Like I said, he’s little more than a swindler and murderer, both of which are the reasons why he had a hit put out. Seems he got on the bad side of a few noble families he shouldn’t have, and ended up having a few pretty hefty bounties put up on him. Mind, they even payed me to do a few certain things to pay him back in full, the petty dastards.”

Discomfort squirmed inside Thorn’s stomach, and he turned to the doctor apprehensively. “What exactly did they pay you to do, if I may ask?”

The old man chuckled darkly to himself, then turned to stare Thorn in the eyes. “Oh, simply a few odds and ends. I might forget to anesthetize him before we proceed with my research, for one. And they want me to keep him alive for as long as possible while I work. Though I have to admit that I’m a bit curious myself about how he’ll respond to my exact tests today, so they really didn’t have to pay me so-“

“All right, I get it.” Thorn cut the doctor off before the man could continue, discomfort completely overcoming his curiosity. Though the scholars only ever made sure to have him target the worst kinds of criminals bounties had to offer, their level of “scientific curiosity” sometimes made Thorn wonder if they were any better themselves.

“Ah, fine, if you insist.” Harris huffed heavily. “But before you go, I do have another mission for you. Requests have dried up a bit recently, so think of this as a sort of test preluding a bit of a break for you, hm?”

That caught Thorn’s attention. As much as he needed to get work done for the scholars, it wasn’t every day he could receive news of having some time off. “What exactly are you planning on having me do?”

The elder grinned slyly, motioning over to the various charts and models he had set out across the building for his study.

“You’re likely aware of it by this point, dear boy, but you aren’t the sole source we have for human resources. Of course, that’s nothing against you; you’re by far the most efficient sole provider for us in terms of raw and accurate manpower. But we simply have to outsource when it becomes difficult to manage our own projects and we fall behind. There’s a neighboring province a few dozen miles away that specializes in human trade and trafficking, which provides us with ample resources at our leisure.” Seeing Thorn raise a suspicious eyebrow, the elder hurriedly moved to reassure him. “Don’t get the wrong idea, boy. The people they trade off are of the exact same caliber that you bring to us, and we explicitly forbid the usage of innocent individuals. Unfortunately, that’s exactly where the problem arises.”

Harris huffed an annoyed breath and brought his hand up to pinch at his temple.

“See, we’ve recently had a few instances of this trade foundation giving us individuals we expressly forbid to be used, namely those who are underage. We’ve attempted to correct them several times, but the problem still persists. Since then, we haven’t used any of their resources for our experiments out of consternation that they truly are helpless innocents rather than criminals to be punished. As such, we’d like you to go investigate and ensure that they are keeping on the up and up. If they aren’t, we’d like for you to take care of the problem. Do you understand what I’m asking you?”

The question was clear enough without being directly stated. Go to the town, investigate the trading system, demolish it, and bring those responsible back to the village for their retribution. Thorn smiled. This might actually be a task worth investing in.

“I understand you loud and clear, sir. Just point me in the right direction and I’ll be off.”

Harris nodded pleasantly. “Ah, of course, of course. Allow me just a moment and I’ll draw you out a map. If you could, take the time and strap down my newest visitor for me, would you?”

Thorn nodded curtly and turned back toward the table. At its base were several straps of leather that were meant to connect to buckles lying at the midpoint and opposite ends of the table. Methodically, he positioned and fastened the straps such that they fastened down each of Dayan’s ankles, wrists, arms, and legs to the table, as well as his head and torso.

“Marvelous, thank you.” Harris remarked pleasantly as he handed Thorn the scrawled paper map. “Now, do be on your way, young man. I’ve got plenty of work to do with my new dearest subject after all.” The old man smiled at the grimace that flicked across the boy’s face, then turned to the feebly stirring experiment lying in front of him. He waited until he heard the door slam shut to allow a ghastly smile to cross his face as he picked up a sharp, glinting knife.

“Who…blast, where am I? Who are you? What are you do-mmph!” The subject grunted as Harris shoved a cloth into his mouth wrapping it around and tying it at the base of his neck. He continued uselessly struggling against the straps, earning a heartless grin from the old scholar.

“Now, now, little lab rat. Don’t be like that.” He cackled lightly, slowly edging the knife down towards his experiment’s sternum. “I can’t tell you how much you’re going to thrash around later if you’re putting up this much of a fight before I even touch you.”

Dayan screamed behind the gag, thrashing even harder as the knife penetrated skin and edged downwards towards his pelvis. A warm-cold feeling rushed through his stomach, and he immediately spasmed backwards at the sensation. A cold cackling filled his ears.

“Now, now, Dayan. Don’t be shy.” The old man wheezed. Dayan turned with horror to stare into the scholar’s cold, dead eyes.

“Let’s see how much I can toy around with you before you die.”


	2. Breaking In and Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorn discovers the secret facility, only to find something incredibly rare in its depths...

Whoever had told Harris that the neighboring county was just going to be a “simple task” was sorely mistaken. Thorn was using up the last dregs of his patience filling out the old man’s favor, and he had spent every year of his life building up an astonishing level of that patience. To start with, nearly every member of the town seemed to be either clueless or a tight-lipped confidant. It was only ever too obvious the difference between the two, but Thorn wasn’t nearly in a position to act out against a single member and interrogate them, lest the town as a whole turn against him and lead either to his removal or their slaughter. Neither was exactly an ideal scenario in this case.

Having finally reached his wit’s end, Thorn had taken to laying low in the corners of the town’s taverns and brothel, lightly attempting to lure the individuals he was certain acted as confidants into a drink or a room alone, to no avail. All of the members the bounty hunter had targeted thus far seemed too capable to falter into his hands yet, meaning he had no leverage to pull on them. The way things rested currently, they remained at a stalemate, which was an inherently disadvantageous position for Thorn. Things only took a turn for the (dubiously) better when- finally- one of the workers at the local brothel pulled him aside.

“I’ve noticed you spend more and more time around these parts, but you haven’t chosen from our services even once for yourself. Might I inquire why someone of your caliber is continuing to pester us in such a manner? Or…are you curious about something else?” The woman asked. Her tone was light and airy, as many workers in her position tended to be, but her eyes glinted dangerously as she pressed the young redhead.

Thorn, for his part, was not particularly receptive at that point in regard to the woman’s impatience. His patience had worn to a razor-thin edge, and he was nearly to the point of snapping and simply taking some of the more suspicious villagers back to Harris simply to satisfy his own petty frustration. As a result, his immediate action was to snap back at the woman accosting him.

“Leave off, I’m busy.” He growled. “Unless you’ve got something to say to me, don’t approach me again. You’ve no idea what I’m ready to do in this state.”

The brothel worker did not take kindly to Thorn’s tone. While still smiling and purring in her silky smooth tone, she crept her hand up his arm to rest on his shoulder. The bounty hunter winced as sharp nails dug through his clothes to pinch into his skin.

“Careful there, little boy. This place is more than willing to punish a loose tongue, if you’re going to be so careless. Watch how you treat us, or you may find yourself in a worse position than you could imagine.”

Thorn looked up at the woman sharply, doing his best to remain passive in the disdainful gaze the woman now shot towards him. The threat was hardly a tangible lead, nothing more than a hint of misfortune that could come in a variety of forms, but still…

Thankfully, it was easy to twist his face into a façade of derisive annoyance. “And what exactly is a useless whore like you able to do to an upstanding citizen? Try to touch me and I’ll make sure you never see the light of day so long as you live. If you’re so desperate for a man’s attention, there are plenty of other sleazebags here who’ll take anything they can get, I’m sure.”

Thorn smirked at the worker’s furious snarl as he got up and turned away. Even if this ended up as a dead end, it felt good to get some of the frustration out. And given the worker’s words, this had every possibility to work out in his favor…at least, more so than his previous approach was giving him. It was easy to maintain a nonchalant demeanor as he made his way back through the crowd. Most of the patrons were fairly preoccupied with the main attractions the brothel had to bring, so very few were even of present mind to even notice a single patron making his way out. The only pair of eyes watching his smug visage disappear out the door belonged to the woman he had just offended before taking his leave, which is what he was counting on.

It took some time before “retribution” came the bounty hunter’s way. He made a scene of stumbling out of the brothel in a fury, catching the eyes of the bouncers who had been put in charge alongside some of the spectators. He wasn’t entirely sure who was involved in the scheme, so it was best to make sure the people had an idea of who he was. That made it easier for them to find him, hence being easier for him to find the center for this entire trafficking operation. Aside from that, he simply took the time to stroll onto a secluded road and pass his time there. It was best to rest in seclusion so he would make an easier target, and it would be even better to act inebriated or even downright trashed to lower his potential assailant’s guard.

Granted, this was all assuming that his intuition was correct on all accounts. It was all too possible that he had elicited the fury of someone who would completely fail to be helpful, and had just wasted an entire night just to satisfy his own ego. If that were the case, it would be better to just leave the town come morning and try to approach from a different angle.

“Oi, you think this is the rat bastard?”

The voice jostled Thorn from his thoughts. Even though he had purposefully let down his guard, it was still embarrassing to realize he hadn’t even caught on to the men approaching him. It was of no consequence of course, but it was enough to make him remember he wasn’t perfect at this craft.

Not yet, anyways.

“Come on, are you blind? Ain’t seen nobody round these parts with that hair n’ eye combo. Think he’ll fetch a real earning from the boss, mind. Could always use another pretty boy in this business.”

Thorn grimaced as he turned his face away. That in itself was enough confirmation that this town’s system was less than honest at this point. Now there was only one path left to follow…even if it was a somewhat humiliating one.

“Oi, ginger. You look a bit sodded there, eh? What say we ‘elp you back?”

Thorn could feel arms wrap underneath his own, desperately trying to heave him up onto his feet into a stumbling gait.

_How completely weak,_ the bounty hunter thought with irritation. _I’m practically a lightweight, and you both can’t even get me to my feet What an embarrassment._

As though privy to Thorn’s inner monologue, one of the slavers turned round towards him.

“Trish said this brat needed a lesson too, while we’re at it. You think roughin’ him up will turn boss off o’ him?”

A harsh laugh erupted from behind Thorn. “You seen the state he likes to keep his own bitch in? He’ll think we let ‘im off light if anything.”

A brief flash of dread spread throughout the bounty hunter’s core, but it evaporated almost immediately. The fist slamming into him was almost soft and squishy more than anything, to the point that he wondered how this man ever managed to secure the job of being a hit man or a slaver. Thorn managed to force out a grunting retch as though it actually hurt, but it sounded forced even to him.

“Ahhhh, nice one mate.” The voice behind him whispered delightedly. “Give ‘im a couple more rounds and I’ll bet she’ll be satisfied.”

Thorn suddenly quite regretted this course of action; of course, there was an absolute minimum of pain, but acting like these weaklings had any sort of power over him in any respect was a massive blow to his pride. Once this was all over, he would greatly enjoy inquiring for Harris to do his worst to these complete embarrassments that called themselves hit-men.

**

“Comin’ through, comin’ through! We got another delivery for the boss man!”

The doors opened up to allow Ravus and Pluck through. The two were infamous among slaves and slavers alike for being two of the most solely incompetent members of the facility, so everyone present reacted in shock as the two dragged a stunning redhead in alongside them at the dead of night. The poor boy seemed completely wasted from alcohol abuse, and Pluck’s fists conveyed that he had likely been at the receiving end of a beating.

“Did they…actually manage to take someone down?”

“Looks like they managed someone who couldn’t fight back at all. Figures, they probably couldn’t take ‘im otherwise.”

  
  
“Yeah, look at the lad. No doubt he’d ‘ave torn ‘em apart if he was half lucid.”

The slaves were less derisive and more wary. Oftentimes inmates like these were here for a special reason; more often, they were there to service one of the higher-ups, meaning they received special treatment. Aside from one or two of the heads of the facility, that was normally one of the places slaves competed for and desired more than anything. Many were treated relatively well, received better rations, and most importantly were saved from being shipped off to be “researched”. The only exception to that rule being…

“Don’t grab at ‘im, you twits.” Ravus growled. “We’re prettyin’ ‘im up for the boss, yeah? Where’s that bastard off to?”

One of the slavers snarled at the pair. “If either of you two paid an ounce of attention, you’d both already know he’s not here right now. You want to gift him something, you’ll both have to well wait your turn.” Turning back to the slave, he reached down and tilted the boy’s head back. “Mind, this one’s not half bad of a looker. I don’t think the boss’d mind if we got him all prepped and ready for him to get back. Gonna be tough dealings for him to play second fiddle without anyone letting him know what he’s got himself into.”

Puck barked a harsh peal of laughter. “Ah, go ahead, go ahead. ‘E dealt up his trouble brushing off one of the women at the brothel anyways, so it’s not like ‘e wasn’t going for it anyways. Just don’t break ‘im too much in your haste, eh? Gotta be fresh and sweet for when the boss pops ‘is-“

That was the last thing anyone present ever heard from Puck.

In a single, swift movement, the redhead twisted in Ravus’s grip and swung his leg around to collide with the slaver. A resounding crack filled the air, and Puck fell near-lifeless onto the ground. Ravus let out a furious bellow and leapt towards the boy, but he didn’t even come close to hurting him. The redhead ducked under his arm, twisting it behind him and slamming him against the ground. Reaching one hand around to grasp Ravus’ elbow, Thorn gave a harsh, quick twist the wrenched the man’s upper arm from his socket. He howled a quick, sharp cry of misery, then collapsed next to his partner.

By this time, the other slavers had begun recovering from their shock and began circling around the redhead, slowly inching closer to block off any options the redhead had to move. Not a single one noticed his calm demeanor, his relaxed form, or the lucid yet teasing glint that entered his eyes. Not a single one noticed the deadly grin filling his face.

As one, they all pounced. Ten against one, and the one had no weapons, was supposedly drunk, and had been beaten by the weakest one of their own. What was there to fear?

**_SNAP_ **

****

The ten missed. Bewildered, they looked around in an attempt to find the slave that had escaped them, before a single one collapsed to the floor. His head twisted at an odd angle, and all light had left his eyes. He shuddered once, then became deathly still. Behind him, the young boy flashed a murderous grin, out and open for all to see.

“Nine more to go~”

**

Thorn was posed with a problem: a very serious problem, at that.

Four slavers had been spared. He had decided early on that was probably the most adequate number to bring back given Harris’ current commodities and Thorn’s traveling ability. The rest were corpses, either bent into unnatural angles or turned to unrecognizable, bloody messes. His own captors were among the survivors, awaiting punishment at Harris’ hands. And in front of him, trembling in abject terror, were a litany of slaves Thorn had no idea what to do with.

It would be easy enough if they were all either innocent or guilty; given their innocence, it would be common sense to return them to their family and friends and reintegrate them into society. Given their guilt, it would only be logical to bring them to Harris, their intended location from the beginning. However, every one of these inmates was now in a state of flux: he knew not who was guilty or innocent, and had no way of ever coming to a full conclusion on such a matter. Which begged the question…what needed to be done? Rather unwilling to undergo the mental gymnastics needed to address the problem, Thorn turned to one of the slaves, the eldest-looking one among them.

“You, elder. Step over for a moment.” The man looked positively horrified, but he was obedient enough. Tentatively, he approached Thorn, stopping at a comfortable distance to talk one-on-one. “Do you know about the past of anyone here? Friends or family, what they might have done to deserve getting locked up?”

The man scowled at the question, but quickly remembered himself and plastered on a façade of equanimity.

“Sir, I’m afraid I know nothing of anyone here. Nobody has given a story of what they did to deserve such a fate, and no slaver has ever called a servant in such a way to make them seem especially guilty. If you wish to discern if anyone here is innocent or guilty, I can’t help.”

Thorn huffed in annoyance. It was an expected answer, but a frustrating one all the same.

“Fine. All of you, go as you please. I have no desire to see you off to the ends of the earth for your own sakes, so look after yourselves. I presume you all can at least do that much?”

A wide smile split the man’s lips, and his head bobbed up and down vigorously.

“Oh, most certainly, sir. Your humble servants will look after each other if need be. No need to worry yourself, not at all.”

_Likely a criminal._ Thorn thought to himself. He seemed far too pleased with the prospect of being released and left to his own devices. Still, he had nothing to confirm his suspicions, so better to-

“Um, sir? Ah, um, I mean, savior. Mmmm…Master? May I call you master for now?” A small, weak voice caught Thorn’s attention, and he turned towards the crowd. None of them seemed to have even noticed the voice. Thorn paused. The words themselves were odd, but even more so was the voice that gave them. It sounded so…so…

“Please, step forward and speak plain. The one who called me master just now.” The slaves grew quiet and looked among themselves, confusion very obvious among them. Then, slowly, they began to part as a small, hunched figure made its way to the center. Thorn was unable to manage his surprise as the form entered his full view.

A young man, dressed in a garment far different from the other slaves, stood before him. While the other slaves wore drab, unflattering garments that acted solely as covering and nothing else, the boy’s garments were borderline flamboyant. A slight silk cloth barely covered any of his chest, draping loosely over his shoulders and likely tying behind his back. A similarly scant cloth looped around his hips and draped between his legs, leaving very little of his form to the imagination. His face was pleasant to look at, tanned and somewhat exotic to look at, while the rest of his body was mottled with purple and red splotches that marred his uneven skin. Most striking, however, was his shock of hair. It was completely white, giving him a somewhat stunning appearance, especially when paired with his clear blue eyes. His arms crossed lightly in front of him as Thorn assessed him, as though well aware of his own lusty appearance.

“I’m…incredibly sorry for asking this of you, master. But I’m a little different from the others here. I don’t…really have anywhere to go, and I don’t know what to do. If it pleases Master, could you…reconsider helping us? Even a little?”

“Hush, brat!” The elder turned and spat at the young man. “We all have an opportunity to make good lives for ourselves and you peal for being the one left out? Go ahead and stay and service your real master once he returns if you’re so concerned. Leave the rest of us, and this good man, out of it!”

Thorn ignored the old man and walked up to the younger slave. The boy couldn’t hold his gaze and immediately looked down.

“My apologies, Master.” His voice quavered. “It’s my fault, so I shouldn’t involve you.”

Thorn held up two fingers. “Two things.” The boy looked up, his eyes now bright and curious.

“First off, I’m not going to be your ‘master’. I find this whole deal distasteful, and people like you who fall right into line without a single question even more so. Don’t get me caught up in your weird games.”

The young man nodded. “Ah…yes, mas-er, yes, sir.”

“Second, and more importantly,.” Thorn continued. The young man continued looking now, his curiosity apparently briefly overcoming his inability to hold the bounty hunter’s gaze.

“Who…who even are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit, what an asshole.
> 
> ...Wait, I wrote that asshole. Dammit.


	3. The Outcast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Against his better judgement, Thorn brings a slave back with him to help complete his mission. However, everything about this one seems strange...what exactly is this boy's history?

_A bump in the road was what finally woke him up._

_He had stayed peacefully asleep the entire trip, managing to purposefully push aside the thoughts of his future in order to gain a semblance of rest before meeting…whoever it was he was supposed to meet. That in itself was saying quite a lot, given his incredibly uncomfortable position; his arms were chained behind his back, as had been the case since his journey had begun. His legs were chained together as well, with a single loop connecting them to the chains on his arms. His mouth had been covered with a rather foul-smelling cloth knotted behind his head as well: this existed as a safety precaution given they were travelling almost the entire breadth of the kingdom to reach their destination. It wouldn’t do for a border guard or passer-by to hear his sudden pleas for help. This state had been his reality for the past…how many days? Maybe weeks at this point._

_The vehicle that he had been placed in- he wasn’t sure whether it was a carriage or trailer or some other wagon-type mode of transportation- finally reached a halt, and the cover he had been hidden under was finally torn away. He blinked away the sudden harsh rays of sunlight, only to find himself faced with a familiar trio; these were his abductors, the ones who were going to present him to a certain someone. He still had no clue why, of course. His presence here, his purpose, what had even gotten him here in the first place…all were a complete mystery. And he highly doubted anyone present was willing to divulge any of that information._

_  
His thoughts were interrupted as a jolting motion pulled him forward; the leader of the bunch had grabbed onto the chain linking his arms and legs and pulled him out, dragging him onto the ground below. In spite of the sudden jolt and onset of pain, he was far too tired to protest. Granted, if he had, they likely would be even harsher with him. That was just the way this group seemed to act._

_“No time for sleepin’ now, eh?” The leader grumbled ominously. “You’ve got a right load of work to prepare for before you’re ready for your real job.”_

***

“Who…exactly are you?”

The words left Thorn’s mouth before he really thought about it, and he bit the inside of his cheek in frustration the moment his wits caught back up with him. It would take a fool not to understand the boy’s position at this point: the words of the slavers, the way the other slaves treated him, and his own garb and demeanor all pointed to the reality of what he was meant to be in this institution. And yet, at Thorn’s question the young man blushed and looked away, seeming almost shy in his position.

“I…apologize again, sir. I spoke out of line and drew your attention away. Please, forget I asked anything and just be on your way, as it is of no concern to you who I truly am.”

Thorn merely raised an eyebrow at the boy’s remark, earning an odd flush from the slave when he finally met the bounty hunter’s gaze once more. Thorn noted the boy was merely able to maintain eye contact for around a half-second before once again ducking his head away in shame. Whatever his exact circumstances, it was becoming increasingly clear that he was explicitly uncomfortable discussing or alluding to it in any way, at least when it came to his potential savior. Normally, this would be of no concern to Thorn- he was hardly in charge of the well-being of any victims his targets had accrued- and yet, there was something here that was a bit more complicated…

_“Where exactly is the boss?”_

The question had piqued his mind the moment he had heard his captors inquiring about it upon his entry. It was abundantly clear the true mastermind of this place was nowhere to be seen among the casualties, but Thorn’s only real current leads were either a group of potentially poorly-intentioned slaves or the slavers who were liable to withhold information even in death. And among the slaves, there was one who seemed liable to know more than the others, merely by a matter of circumstance. Making his mind, Thorn pointed at the young slave once again.

“You. Leave with me. Everyone else, do what you want.”

“P-pardon me?” The boy squeaked in an awkward pitch, his face flushing even brighter than it had previously. Still, he tentatively stepped towards the bounty hunter, as though entirely unsure of what Thorn’s plan was. “I-I think there must be a mistake.” He stammered. “There’s not much I have to offer, and it wouldn’t really be okay if I was away from here for a long period of-“

“Don’t you know when to shut your trap?!” Thorn glanced over with a measure of surprise to see the elder angrily approach the slave. “You know well and truly what your place is here, so why are you still hesitating?” The man quickly whirled around to face Thorn, his mouth breaking in too a smile that was far too wide for any sane human. “You absolutely chose correctly, milord. If you’re impatient, we servants can even prepare a bed for you here and now. We can all-“

“What exactly are you going on about?” Thorn cut the man off harshly. “All you’re spouting is a load of nonsense. And haven’t I already told the lot of you to leave off to wherever else you’d like? You have no business here anymore.”

The elder gulped loudly and knelt before Thorn, trembling violently as he did so. “P-please forgive me, Your Lordship. I simply assumed you would want to pleasure yourself with him quickly, and-“

The man’s apology was cut off quickly with a choked grunt. The servants backed away as Thorn withdrew a dagger from the man’s neck, an annoyed scowl broken across his face. Nobody had seen the hunter move, or even where the blade had come from. As he turned to the crowd, all the other slaves instinctively backed away, the boy included.

“From here on, I recommend you lot do your best not to assume things about others without prior knowledge.” Thorn growled. “Now, if you please, leave me be. I have business with this one.”

Saying that, he grabbed the slave by the wrist and dragged him away from the others. The boy grunted and mumbled some sort of half-assed protest, but in spite of himself seemed unable to put up much of a fight against Thorn. The other slaves simply milled about or stared after the pair as Thorn loaded away the slavers being taken back with him, either appearing entirely flummoxed or disinterested by the bounty hunter’s actions. It bothered Thorn that he couldn’t get a sufficient read on any of them aside from the older man, but until a bounty came up it wasn’t entirely his problem to deal with regardless. For now, his mission was purely to wring whatever small bits of information he could out of this one remaining servant. Dragging the boy next to him, Thorn entered the seat of the wagon and spurred the lead horses into gear.

The trip was a long and arduous one; it had been an arduous enough venture for Thorn to arrive alone, but now he had the task of transporting several prisoners as well as a potentially valuable piece of intel. The way to and from the village was a poorly designed and traveled path, and it would be no surprise if they were stopped by any variation of wildlife, bandits, or natural hazards on the way. In either case, Thorn almost wished he were returning from his mission empty-handed; not only would he have to remain and ensure the prisoner’s safety, but he also would be required to defend the slave as well. It was doubtful that he had any working experience in combat, and his clothing offered laughable amounts of protection against even natural elements, much less any form of weapon.

“S-sir…please.” Thorn was once again dragged from his thoughts as his abductee pulled on his wrist. He turned to see the boy panting furiously, his face flushed and dripping with sweat. “I’m sorry, but…can we take a small break first? And…may I know exactly where we’re supposed to be going?”

Thorn considered the question. It wasn’t often that he had a relatively willing or even conscious person travelling with him, and his current companion seemed to have significantly lower stamina than his youth suggested. Normally, this wouldn’t be any concern of his, but if this one had any sort of valuable information for Thorn to complete his task…

Thorn pulled over and motioned the boy over to the side of the road, sitting down as the servant laid back. With his eyes closed, the boy looked much more peaceful and somewhat younger than Thorn was comfortable acknowledging, considering what he knew of him. His build was unexpectedly strong, with well-toned and defined muscles that defied his withdrawn and timid behavior. Thorn smirked as he considered that this boy was likely a good deal taller than him, in spite of his shrinking demeanor and youthful appearance. Still, those blotches of purple, red and yellow that marred his skin spoke volumes of what he had likely undergone. Though now that Thorn had a closer look, he noticed that there were small, spread-out traces of black that accompanied some of the wounds. Each trace was stylized in a pattern, leaving no doubt as to whether they were intentional. And yet, the pattern they bore wasn’t immediately recognizable to Thorn; something about them spoke to the mystical or occult, but he couldn’t discern any specific meaning to them. It was curious, how oddly mysterious this one boy seemed to be…

“Name.”

Thorn spoke without necessarily realizing it, and he almost bore some shock himself as the boy opened one eye blearily.

“P-pardon, sir?”

The boy’s eyes were instantly concerned, blatantly fearful that such a minor transgression as not understanding Thorn would result in the latter’s fury. The bounty hunter forced himself to relax, and put on a more pedestrian façade than he was normally accustomed to.

“I’d like to know your name, please. I fear you’re the only lead I have at the moment, so we’ll have to spending some time together until I get things settled. It’ll probably be easer to communicate with you if I know your name, so…”

The boy stared blankly back. “Ah…my name…my given name is Isaac.” He looked down sharply once he said it, but Thorn noticed his eyes seemed to tighten just before they vanished from sight.

“Isaac.” Thorn whispered, simply to test the name out, but was startled to see the boy shiver, almost imperceptibly, as he said it. “Perhaps this is a silly question, Isaac. But I don’t suppose you happen to know where the head of that place happened to have left for, do you?”

Head still bowed, Isaac shook his head. “Master never tells the servants where he intends to go, nor when he intends to return. The only ones who have knowledge of that are a select few of his companions.”

Thorn decided to venture into the line of thought. “Is there any chance you know who they are? If it’s one of the people we brought with us, that could potentially expedite the process.”

Isaac looked sharply at Thorn, then just as quickly looked away. “I…don’t know. This isn’t information Master shared with me in any respect.”

Thorn stared at the boy for a while, looking for any betrayed emotion on his face. His words were certainly suspicious, but if he was lying he was refusing to give any of the actual truth away.

At least, not yet.

Thorn chose to let the matter rest and shrugged noncommittally. “I’m not particularly concerned with that. It’s just, if you have information, I’m more than happy to hear it.”

For one reason or another, Isaac chose not to respond. Even after the two boarded the wagon and started again, it didn’t take long for silence to pervade the air and settle, giving a somewhat awkward tinge to the atmosphere that Thorn wasn’t entirely accustomed to. The bounty hunter cleared his throat, hoping to relieve the tension and lead up to something else to talk about-

“Sir, why did you kill that elder?”

Thorn jolted at the question and looked over to see Isaac staring down at the floor with consternation. His form trembled slightly, and his fists clenched at his sides. The bounty hunter let out a brief sigh and turned away.

“I’m not sure if I told you before, but my name’s Thorn. Please address me that way from now on. Hearing ‘sir’ from your mouth makes me uncomfortable.” Isaac shifted in his seat, but said nothing. “Anyways, I’m sure you’ve guessed it by now, but I’m a bounty hunter of sorts. I was here on commission to take down that facility by my employers, but I don’t really give a damn about the people inside. I probably would have left him alone if he wasn’t being such a pest.”

The boy flinched at that, and his voice quavered as he spoke up. “Does…it take a lot to be a pest in your eyes?”

In spite of himself, Thorn smirked. “I think the finishing blow was him trying to force me to bed with you. I found him disgusting, so I killed him. That’s about all there is to it.”

Isaac nodded, still firmly looking at the floor. “I see. Then…” Whatever the boy was about to say, he decided to let trail off. Instead, he looked out to the forest passing by. The silence grew again, though this time it felt distinctively more comfortable. Feeling somewhat relaxed by the boy’s relieved tension, Thorn sat back and allowed his own mind to relax and focus on the task of navigating the wagon towards their destination. Isaac talked every now and then as Thorn’s mind drifted away, and he simply grunted or nodded affirmation as the boy pointed things out along the way. The haze of the journey began to take over, and he found himself slowly-

“-orn!”

Thorn jolted as Isaac pulled desperately at his sleeve. “The lights are getting closer, Mr. Thorn! Do you know what they are? What’s happening?”

_Lights?_

Thorn looked around and felt his heart drop as he noticed the forest around being lit up with small points of fire. Each point seemed ten feet away from the wagon at most, and they surrounded the wagon on all sides except ahead of them. Without a doubt, that meant-

Thorn pulled back on the reins, but it was far too late. A loud crash filled the bounty hunter’s ears, and he felt himself lurch to the side as a horse’s scream of pain tore through the air. Isaac fell out alongside him, and the cart containing the prisoners fell on its side opposite them. As Thorn rose up to get his bearings, a hearty laugh reverberated through the dark forest.

“Now, now. Where do you two think you’re going in the middle of the night?” The voice was in front of Thorn, but the flames illuminated the area in such a manner that he couldn’t clearly see who rested beyond them. Obviously, it had to be a bandit group, but beyond that, it was impossible to tell.

“Don’t mind us, kids.” The voice cooed condescendingly. “We’re just here to nab whatever goods you have to dispose of and be on our merry way. No need to get violent if you’re willing to spare us a share, right?”

That obviously wasn’t an option. Even if the people inside were a marketable resource, Thorn had to bring back results in order to fulfill the bounty. Huffing in frustration, the bounty hunter guided Isaac up and pulled the boy behind him.

“Stay at my back.” He whispered to the slave. “We’re in a bit of a bind, so run away if you need to. Understand?” Isaac squeezed Thorn’s hand in what he hoped was a display of affirmation. Sourly, the bounty hunter drew his dagger and pointed it at the circle of flame in front of him.

“Oh, are we playing tough now?” The voice taunted. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The circle of flames spread out around the pair, and a shadowed individual stepped forward, his face still veiled from view. The pair were completely surrounded now, blocking out any of Isaac’s chance to escape. Thorn cursed to himself and slipped his dagger into Isaac’s hands. It wasn’t much for him, but the boy had to fight if the two were to make it out alive. He crouched low to the ground in preparation, eyes scanning the area for the first person to strike. The voice rang out, one last time.

“You boys are about to have a really bad time.”


	4. Red as Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorn and Isaac are assaulted by bandits along the way to the Archanist's Village, eliciting an unusual change in Isaac's demeanor. With all the mixed signals Thorn is picking up from the boy, what exactly is the call to make with him?

Normally, it isn’t ideal to be initiating combat when surrounded on all sides. The chances of winning the fight, or even surviving, are severely decreased when your ability to move and control the area are limited in such a way. However, victory is not necessarily impossible given such restrictions. Given an equal fighting force, it’s still entirely feasible to pull out a victory regardless of the starting positions in the fight. However, if one finds themselves severely outnumbered, the chance of victory drops even further still- drastically so. Add in a severe lack of weapons or other modes of defense, and winning is nigh impossible, and any such person finding themselves in such a situation is advised to immediately surrender and pray to whatever deity they believe in that their opponent will have mercy upon their lives. The only possible factor that could still pull out a chance of victory would be for the one under attack to have such an incredibly superior level of skill in combat that the combined factors of being outnumbered, disarmed, and surrounded are rendered completely inconsequential, and that victory was assured for them regardless of whatever move their foe made.

Sadly for the bandits, this was indeed the case with Thorn.

The first bandit to rush him leapt forward as he swung his axe in a straight downward arc towards Thorn’s head. It was a simple approach, and effective enough to cripple a petrified villager or tired soldier with little to no effort. However, Thorn had no issue simply sidestepping the blow and rounding behind him. A quick blow to the back of the poor man’s knees toppled him onto the ground, and Thorn finished the job with a quick blow to the head. Reluctantly, the bounty hunter picked the bandit’s axe off of the ground and lightly rolled it in his hands. Thorn fancied himself a master of most weapon types, but axes had always been a somewhat more flawed type in his experience. His build was rather too slight and lithe for the more bulky and cumbersome weapon, though he was functional enough to get by.

Thankfully, that was all the bounty hunter needed at this point.

The bandits all seemed equally unskilled in combat; it became clear in a few strikes that the extent of their experience consisted of surprising hapless merchants or weary travelers, and rarely anybody with form of real combat experience. Thorn smiled to himself as he approached the remaining members, twirling his axe in a half arc above his head.

“I can’t believe I was actually worried.” He scoffed lightly. “I should have realized that nobody short of a bunch of fools would attack a lone traveler without even attempting to understand who they were. This is your own fault, I’ll have you know.”

A particularly stupid bandit rushed forward, desperately flailing his axe in an attempt to catch to bounty hunter with even a slight, glancing blow. Thorn evaded him easily and swung his axe to the side as the bandit passed him by. He felt the tell-tale tugging sensation from the axe, and allowed himself to slow to a stop and let the remaining bandits watch their comrade flop lifelessly onto the ground. A warm, wet liquid splashed upwards onto the back of his neck as he pulled the axe up and away. Without a moment’s hesitation, the remaining bandits turned tail and fled.

“Pathetic.” The bounty hunter murmured to himself. He turned slightly to check the body next to him; the poor man’s stomach was split wide open, and his eyes were already settled into a glassy stare of a dead man. Thorn let him be, and walked over the other bodies strewn around the makeshift battleground to the first bandit he had defeated. Unlike the others, he still appeared hale and hearty with a steady breathing rate and pulse. He wasn’t a specific bounty, but Thorn doubted Harris would mind if he brought an extra along for examination regardless. The man was just insane enough that he could potentially go for another specimen to experiment on. Taking a deep breath, Thorn wrapped his arms under the bandits’ and began dragging him towards the wagon. It was easy enough to secure the man alongside the others, but it still took some time. Wearily, Thorn retired from the task once it was completed and made his way back to the roadside. Isaac was likely waiting for him, completely terrified from the short-

Thorn started as he came upon the bandits’ dead bodies a second time. He had expected Isaac to be there, perhaps shaking in fright after being attacked like that, but there was nothing except a few corpses to be seen. There was no blood aside from what came from Thorn’s victims, but still…

_“Come to think of it…”_ Thorn thought to himself. The last time he had really seen Isaac was when he had slipped the boy a dagger. Afterwards he had been preoccupied fighting and assessing the scene in order to really pay attention to anything, but he didn’t remember seeing Isaac there. The boy had a much stronger physique than even Thorn himself had, so he wouldn’t have been so easily overpowered…right?

A piercing scream filled the air.

Thorn snapped his head immediately into the direction of the sound. It was obviously Isaac’s voice letting out the scream, confirming his suspicions. The bounty hunter gritted his teeth with frustration. It was annoying enough to have to bring the kid along for information purposes, but it was even more troublesome that he seemed singularly incompetent; the bandits were absolutely of the lowest quality, and he wasn’t even able to protect himself from such a minor threat?

Thorn shook himself from his thoughts. It was less important to be frustrated with Isaac’s incompetence at this point than it was to make sure he survived the night. Even if the boy was entirely useless, Thorn still needed to take care of him, at least for the time being. Anything afterwards, however…

Another scream pierced the air as Thorn raced through the forest; this time, however, the scream was much more drawn out and defiant. The bounty hunter quickened his pace, listening closely as the sounds of a struggle grew closer, louder, more intense, and-

“NO!” Thorn caught a glimpse of color through the dense trees. A tanned figure was kneeling down over another prone form, swinging their arms rapidly up and down in succession. Small flecks of red flew into the air as the motions repeated, though the assaulter seemed to be paying no mind to it. Instead, he desperately slammed his arms into the prone figure, shrieking all the while.

“No! No! No! No! NOOOOOOOOOOO!” Each yell was punctuated with another hit, and another fresh spray of red into the air.

Thorn dashed towards the figures, rounding the trees in order to take in the scene in its entirety.

The assailant, as Thorn had guessed, was Isaac. His clothes were horribly disheveled, his lower garment torn near clean away and exposing his lower half entirely. His eyes were wide and staring, nearly bulging out of their sockets as tears flowed rapidly from them. His mouth was frothing slightly, and his breath was unsteady and hitched, catching each time he gasped for air. The poor soul at the receiving end of his assault was presumably one of the bandits, but it was impossible to tell anything from their identity at this point. Isaac’s assault had all but obliterated their face, which was little more than a lump of red mush now. Lying behind the two was another prone body, throat presumably cut clean through with the dagger Thorn had lent Isaac. Thorn allowed a slight grin to flit across his face.

“Not so defenseless, hm?” The bounty hunter reached down to pull the boy away from his deceased captor. “Time to leave off, Isaac. That one’s long dead, you know.”

“NoooOOOOOOOO!” Isaac half-moaned, half-screamed as Thorn’s hand met his shoulder, and he spun around to the redhead with a snarl on his face. “DON’T…TOUCH…ME!!!!!” The boy pounced onto Thorn, desperately attempting to mow him down into the ground and continue his assault. The bounty hunter was forced to dig his heels into the ground to keep from toppling over, and the two were momentarily locked into a deadlock.

“Cut…it…out.” Thorn growled as he pushed back against the crazed boy. “One last warning.” Isaac didn’t relent, instead pushing forward with even more vigor as loud sobs continued to burst from his throat.

“Fine. Just remember this was your fault.” Thorn reared back his head as he pushed forward once, and slammed his forehead up against Isaac’s with resounding force. The servant’s eyes crossed briefly, straightened out, and then rolled back into his head as he collapsed onto the ground. Wearily, Thorn staggered back a couple of steps and sat back to steady his own head. Now that he was unconscious, Isaac held a soft, peaceful expression, one completely at odds with the tortured gaze he held mere moments before. Once again, he held the countenance of someone who seemed entirely incapable of harming a single living creature. Thorn turned his gaze towards the unfortunate bandits, his eyes coming to rest on the latter bandit’s obliterated skull. His small, slight smile returned.

“Troublesome bastard.”

**

The rest of the journey to the Alchemist’s Village was relatively calm and uneventful. Isaac slept off large portions of the journey, and he remained withdrawn and uncommunicative for the duration of the time he was awake. He no longer asked Thorn any questions, and Thorn didn’t see a reason to ask anything of the former slave.

And so, the journey passed silently.

The wagon was received by a fairly large group once Thorn arrived to the village. Harris had likely informed the members of the village that Thorn would be arriving with a larger than normal load with this bounty, and so the labor workers had arrived in full force to transport the criminals set for bounty.

“I have a bit of a story for Harris about some of them, so don’t quite set them up for him until I’m able to get a good word in, all right?” Thorn inquired the leader, who simply nodded curtly. Thorn didn’t interact verbally with the workers much, more often than not simply allowing them to take the packages and be on their way without so much as a “how do you do”. In response, the workers often said nothing as they performed their work, preferring to keep as broad a distance from the bounty hunter as they possibly could. As such, even such a small command as this was generally unprecedented, and often meant something either particularly interesting or frustrating had occurred during the trip.

As the workers unloaded the wagon, Thorn noticed Isaac shrink into his seat a bit, his form beginning to tremble ever so slightly. Slowly, Thorn reached out to lightly tap the boy’s shoulder. Isaac flinched, but didn’t seem ready to freak out on the bounty hunter like he had previously. Instead, he slowly turned his head to look Thorn in the eyes, which Thorn noticed were somewhat swollen and bloodshot.

“In case you didn’t notice, we’ve arrived.” Thorn noted drily. “I’ve got someone you need to meet, and then we can figure out what we’re actually going to do with you.”

Isaac reached up and unconsciously rubbed his slightly bruised forehead. “Do…with me…? What exactly would you have to do-?”

“That’s why we have to figure it out.” Thorn responded with some irritation. “I have no clue what to with you, but you’re the best chance we have to get anything about the person in charge of that prison. We’ll have to figure out later how we’re going to make you useful up to that point.”

Isaac ducked his head slightly, though Thorn could easily discern his fully flushed face in spite of it. 

“S-sorry.” Thorn didn’t bother to acknowledge the apology, instead moving to exit the wagon. Isaac slowly followed behind, taking care to scale down the vehicle in spite of his continued tremors. The boy was so clearly shaken, Thorn wasn’t surprised to see him jump and shriek as a withered and energetic voice rang out across the village.

“Oi, Thorn! What’s all this on you havin’ to see me ‘fore I can do my research?!” Thorn turned to see the old archanist Harris lumbering towards the wagon, an unmistakable air of righteous fury pervading his every movement.

“I warrant you’ll have to have some tall tale to make up fir it, I tell you, I-“ Harris paused mid-tirade as he noticed the shrining form of Isaac, who was desperately doing his best to dissolve into the wagon’s shadows to hide from the scientist. “Oho? It’s rare of you to bring someone of their own free will, eh? Can’t be you’ve taken a likin’ to someone in the midst of your journey? Or…” the scientist’s eyes glinted darkly as he assessed the bounty hunter, “…you’ve got somethin’ more important to discuss in private?”

Thorn bowed as politely and graciously as he could muster. “Harris, this is Isaac. I believe he’ll be important for us in the coming discussion I wish for us to share. But first and foremost, you are correct. If we could find a place to talk about the mission in secret, I would ask that we do so quickly. There is much that I need to discuss with you.”

Harris narrowed his eyes harshly. “You never talk to me politely, boy. Just how big of a mistake did you manage to make?” His eyes darted quickly to Isaac, who continued to shrink back, and then back to the bowing Thorn again. The archanist let out a low groan, and waved his hand with defeat.

“Fine, fine. Let’s get to my lab as quickly as possible. This story of yours better well be the tale of the century, for both of your sakes.”


End file.
